


Que Sera Sera

by The_Creeping_Shadow



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Ancients are Jedi Council, Angst, Denial of Feelings, Jedi Arthur, M/M, Mind Games, Mutual Pining, Past Mentorship, Possessive Behavior, Rome is Darth Revan, Set in SWTOR, Sith Alfred, Unhealthy Relationships, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-14 18:42:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10542306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Creeping_Shadow/pseuds/The_Creeping_Shadow
Summary: When I was just a Padawan, I asked my Master, "What will I be? Will I be heroic, will I be strong?"This was his wise reply, "Whatever will be, will be. If you persist in your studies, you will be a Jedi, like me."His answer, vague as it was, satisfied me for many years. After all, I idolized my Master, and wanted to be just like him. Then I grew up, and fell in love. Though attachment was forbidden, suddenly my Master was more than my Master. Not long after I became a Jedi, I asked my sweetheart, "What lies ahead? Will we still be together? Will we still be friends?"Oblivious to my hidden affection, he simply said "Whatever will be, will be, but you will always be my greatest ally."Soon after, temptation took hold of me, and I tried to kill my love to no avail. Victorious independence broke my chains, yet I left my Master, left him to die. Shocked, he asked me, "Who are you? I thought you were heroic, I thought you were strong, why did you betray me?"I told him tenderly, "Dear Master, I am Sith, and to be Sith is to be free. As you always say, whatever will be, will be."





	1. Remember Then

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick note before we begin - I haven't played SWTOR in forever. I am doing my research, but there might be some things that I might miss, such as the specific details of some missions. Also, I am going to be taking liberties with the timeline, and the inner workings of both the Empire and the Republic. In this case, in order to prevent the inevitable flame war in the comments, I would say that, while the story is set in SWTOR, I wouldn't consider it to be canon in any way, shape or form.

**Tython Jedi Temple, 3642 BBY**

Arthur hated younglings.

He hated the way they would run around the temple, tripping everyone up in their path. He hated their smarmy, impertinent questions, and the way they would poke and prod and pester at everything there was to see. He hated their annoyingly loud voices, their painful arrogance, and their naive optimism.

All this was true, and more. Even with the bright, peaceful air of Tython easing into his skin, Arthur was in a sour, bitter mood the very moment he stepped off his ship three hours ago.

The Jedi grumpily shuffled down the hallways, glaring balefully at any who passed him by. He was heading straight for the archives, as he was on assignment to study strange phenomena in the Force. This planet was filled with it, and while normally he would have been ecstatic to come to such an ancient place, today was an exception.

It was eleven years to this day that the Sacking of Coruscant took place. Eleven years since his former apprentice betrayed him.

Arthur had thought that Alfred was dead for a year, only to find him standing there, mask slashed open by his lightsaber...

_Alfred's once-blue eyes gleamed yellow in the hazy smoke. His voice was crooning, and full of treacherous affection as he spoke, "Master... are you pleased to see me?"_

No. He shouldn't think of it. He shouldn't even meditate on it. It was too evil a thought to continue. In either case, the Alfred he knew had faded away long ago, and the Sith mockery in his place had no right to occupy his mind.

Arthur shrugged off his memories, and took another step forward. Unfortunately, it was right in the way of the frog.

"Ohonhonhon! Well, if it isn't my old friend! Why don't you come give big brother a hug, hmm?"

Ah yes. As if he didn't already have enough trouble, Francis was here to ruin the rest of his day. Perfect.

Arthur scowled deeply, causing his eyebrows to scrunch together. "You're not my brother, frog. Get out of my way. Unlike you, I have work to do."

In the face of Arthur's dour expression, Francis only became more emboldened. "Why must you be so rude, Arthur? I haven't seen you in forever-" He slung his arm around Arthur's shoulders.

"It's been two weeks since you last accosted me-" Arthur fumed, struggling to escape the frog's grip.

Francis ignored his fury, "-and I only wish you gift you with my handsome presence. Is that not what a good friend should do?"

"Frog. If you don't cease your invasion of my personal space, I will do it for you." Arthur ground his teeth, but Francis only tightened his embrace.

"Ah, but Arthur, I worry for you, you know? You are much ruder than you usually are. Is it your ugliness? Do not be saddened by this, my friend. I know it is upsetting for you, but not everyone can be as pretty as I!"

Francis stuck his nose high in the air, and his nasal laughter rang down the halls. Five seconds later, he was violently shoved off of Arthur.

"Shut up! You are being entirely undignified! Jedi are meant to be self composed, and yet you throw yourself around as if it is no concern of yours! In fact, I wouldn't be surprised to find you running naked in the temple. No more, I say, no more! Now you leave me be, you hear?"

Still laughing, Francis waved him away. "Yes, yes, I hear you clearly, Arthur. You wish to cocoon yourself in the archives, when it is such a magnificent day-"

Arthur was inches away from murdering the frog right here and now. "I came here on assignment. The call was straight from the Jedi Council. You are stopping me from finishing what I was sent here to do. I suggest you end it-"

"Oh please, I am no fool Arthur. Don't treat this as a chore. You usually enjoy it here on Tython. The only reason why you are so disagreeable is because it's that day again. I really don't see why you obsess over it so, you and I both know that Alf-"

Immediately, Arthur loomed ominously over Francis. His teasing voice squeaked into nothingness as Arthur's green eyes bored into his head.

**_"Do not speak of him."_ **

At once, Arthur stalked imperiously down the hallway, leaving behind a bewildered frog in his wake.

* * *

A few hours later, Tython's star had long since sunk beneath the horizon, and night brought with it unwanted visions of the past.

He was slaving away down in the archives into the wee hours of the morning, only for him to be promptly kicked out by the supervising mistress.

This forced him to wander around the outskirts of the temple, as he didn't want to go back to his quarters. All the same, the peaceful feeling of the place at that moment calmed him from his agitation.

Arthur remembered many nights like this on Coruscant. The sky was blotted out from the city lights, yet the temple there had much of the same atmosphere.

After a long day of training, he and Alfred would sit by the balcony, going over everything that they needed to work on. It was a time of war, and yet Alfred, who was barely ten years of age then, looked at him with bright, pure blue eyes.

_"Master, master, when can I start using a lightsaber? They're so cool! I wanna use one of the ones with the dual blades, they're called saberstaffs, right?" His apprentice bounced up and down in his seat. "Anyways, it would be so awesome-"_

_Arthur tutted, "Now, now, Alfred, using a lightsaber is a skill that takes many years to develop. Judging by your performance today, I dare say that you haven't even fully mastered the practice sword, which is but a pinch compared to the saberstaff."_

_Alfred groaned in defeat, "Aww, but that's so boring! I must have gone over that stupid kata a thousand times over, and you still say it's not 'perfect'?"_

_Arthur crossed his arms, but his stern countenance was a poor disguise for his amusement. "It is not just a 'stupid kata', as you call it. Shii-Cho and The Way of the Sarlacc is the primary form of battle. Every Jedi must learn to master it, you know this. Besides, fighting is not all that a Jedi does. We are as much philosophers as we are warriors, Alfred, and it is high time for you to learn this as well. Calm you mind, and meditate on the Code."_

_"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, Master. I just want to stop being so useless. All I do is sit around and train, while everyone else is fighting the Sith!" Alfred stared at the ground, fiddling with the hem of his robe._

_"Training is the most useful thing you can do right at this moment, my apprentice. Do not rush it, or you will truly be of no help to anyone, most of all yourself." At that, Arthur placed his hand under Alfred's chin, forcing him to look into his eyes..._

_His shadowy, tainted yellow eyes-_

He desperately gasped for air, clawing his way out of his torturous memories, "P-Please." Arthur slid down against the wall, clutching at his head. "I- I don't want to remember-"

_The tall buildings of Coruscant blotted out the night, but instead of city lights, it was blooming pillars of fire burning a wound into the sky._

_Two blades struck against each other again and again, one green, the other red. Sith and Jedi, Darkness and Light, both fought with all their might in this never-ending duel of the fates._

_Yet, the balance was tipped in the Sith's favor. The Jedi was eventually brought down to his knees on the balcony floor, and the Sith stood triumphantly over him, pressing his saberstaff into the Jedi's cheek._

_"A-Alfred... wh-why...? Why won't you kill me? Everyone else is already dead, why am I still alive?" The Jedi croaked, his voice rendered to ash in his grief._

_The Sith bent down to his level, gently caressing the left side of the Jedi's face as he seared the right. The mix of harsh, burning pain and the light touch of the Sith's hand only made it all the more worse for the Jedi._

_"My dear, dear Master... shouldn't you already know?"_

_Confused, the Jedi blearily gazed into yellow eyes. The Force had abandoned him, the temple was destroyed, Coruscant invaded, and his apprentice, his dear, dear apprentice who he had mourned over, was a Sith. He was a failure, a complete and utter failure, and he deserved to die for failing the man before him. The Jedi was tired, and waited for death's inevitable sweet kiss, but it never came._

_"Alfred... You have won. My time has come... Stop dragging this out and get it over with- mmph!"_

_The Sith's face came closer with every breath. There was a sick gleam in his eyes. At first glance, one would say that it was satisfaction at the defeat of the Jedi. However, if one were to look deeper, the gleam would seem to be of an opposite nature. It was unhinged, yes, but the sight was born of a demented devotion, a mad love that would not cease._

_Instead of death, the Jedi's kiss was stolen by the Sith's devouring tongue. It twisted and fought with his own, and the Sith's teeth tore harshly into the Jedi's mouth. The battle lasted for a scant few seconds, and ended with the Sith breathing heavily over the Jedi, who was shoved to the ground in the frenzy. The saberblade now was pressed into the Jedi's neck, and the Sith's right hand cupped the scar left behind on the cheek, manically rubbing back and forth._

_"Don't you see? Don't you feel it? Search the Force, you know it to be true. I love you, Arthur. I always have and I always will."_

"I- No! Stop it! Stop it now!"

Arthur struggled to wipe the vision out of his mind, but a presence at the other end of the dream soon pressed back in full force.

Yellow eyes on Korriban clung to Arthur, staking it's claim as it clawed it's way forth.


	2. Walk Like a Man

**Korriban, 3642 BBY**

_Coruscant was burning. Starfighters flew high in the sky, blasting everything into dust. Imperial troopers marched upon the city world as his fellow Sith culled the last remaining Jedi. The Jedi Temple was all but destroyed, but Arthur was still there.  He was still alive, but not for long. Alfred found him leaning heavily on a pillar, his blood seeping to the ground. He tentatively reached out for his love as he made the first step, but Arthur slashed his mask into pieces. They then danced together in combat until Alfred vanquished his Master. He loomed tall over Arthur, and the Dark Side thrummed through his veins as he bent down to land the final blow-_

_Only to find that he couldn't do it. He could never do it, not in a million trillion years._

_Alfred was too **weak** -_

He awoke in a flurry of motion, shooting up from his bed. He sat, breathing in ragged, heavy gulps as he clutched at his chest.

It was that dream again.

Every year without fail, Alfred would have the same visions.

To this day, he ruminated over what he had done. Or rather, what he should have done.

Instead of ending his Master as a true Sith would, he _kissed_ him. The sensation of Arthur's mouth pulsing against his excited him to such a degree that the very Force itself curled around them, surrounding the two in it's loving embrace. He could still feel its lingering touch seeping into the waking world.

The connection allowed Alfred to _feel_ Arthur's presence, and even though they were separated from each other by thousands of light years, Alfred wouldn't be surprised if he found Arthur sitting right next to him. He fell on his back, staring up at the ceiling as the wispy strings holding their minds together slowly but surely went away. He knew that Arthur had that very same dream. He felt his struggle, his rushed, frantic pull as his Master tried to escape his grasp...

Oh, he would kill to see Arthur once again, right at that very moment, squirming beneath him-

"Bzzing! Incoming message from BANTHA FODDER, I repeat, incoming message from BANTH-"

Alfred flung his arm over his head. "Ugggh. Fucking Ivan! Can't that bastard wait for five minutes? Tell him I'm BUSY!"

The service droid bleeped incessantly, poking at Alfred's foot. "But sir, it is labeled as URGENT, do you really want me to disconnect the call?"

"No, no, don't do that." Alfred lightly kicked at the droid, groaned, then flopped out of bed. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands as he mumbled, "Just come over here. Open the line."

The droid bleeped a "Will do, sir!" then switched on it's holoprojector.

There, the infuriating sight of Ivan's face came into view. "Greetings, Comrade! Did you sleep well?"

"It was nice until I saw your disgusting face." Alfred scowled, sending a death glare in his rival's direction. "This call better be for a good fucking reason, otherwise I'm going to rip your head off when I fly back to Dromund Kaas."

Ivan smiled and simpered, giggling. "You are such a grumpy bear when you wake up in the morning, Alik. I suppose you can't sleep in _everyday-_ "

Alfred's eye twitched. "My name's not Alik, you moof-milking sow. I'm not in the mood for any of your shit today. What the hell do you want?"

"Oh, Alik, you have such a way with words. They may not be well-formed, but at least you try, yes?"

"You have until the count of three, then I'm going to cut the call-"

"Oho, but wouldn't it be such a scandal if I were to tell Darth Yao that you cut off direct orders from him? It would be so terribly tragic if he heard that, fufufu."

He clenched his fist. If only he could stab his lightsaber deep into that smug bastard's chest. "Why would Yao use you to give me orders? He usually calls me if he wants to talk." Alfred narrowed his eyes in suspicion. This couldn't mean anything good.

Ivan snickered as he playfully wagged his finger. "That's Master Yao to you, Alik. Anyways, our dear Master has made the both of us a proposition _,_ if you will. You see, we are to work on a special project together! Won't that be such fun?"

Alfred gave Ivan a deadpan look, then snorted. "Really? Oh joy, oh rapture, I can't hardly wait. Ivan, dare I ask, what exactly is this 'project' of yours, and again, why the hell wouldn't Yao-"

"Master Yao."

"Grr, why wouldn't he just call me directly? These are, according to you, direct orders."

At that, Ivan's smile grew into a wide smirk. "Do you really think that our Master has the time to deal with the likes of yourself?" He looked down his nose at Alfred. "Since your last task was a complete disaster-"

"Hey, I still got the fucking holocron on Alderaan, which is more than what you can say, asshole."

"Ah, yes, you did indeed get the holocron, but at the expense of two bakeries, one bank, three ships, and our cover. Who did you think had to clean up your mess, hmm?"

The twitch in Alfred's eye intensified. "Last time I remember, you didn't exactly help. In fact, I distinctly recall you standing right there in the midst of the chaos, chocking out some poor old Twi'lek-"

"Who would have blown our cover even more than you already had." Ivan tilted his head, eyes wide in childish glee. "You have such an active imagination, Alik, but regardless, as sad as I am to say it, the galaxy is not your playground. Hence the reason why I'm calling you. I am to make sure that you don't screw up like you did before. This project is very important to Darth Yao, and it would be so upsetting if you were to fail once more."

As Ivan went on, Alfred found that he grew more and more annoyed with his babbling insults. His knuckles grew white as his fists clenched ever more. "I'm sure you would be absolutely heartbroken, Ivan, but that still doesn't explain what exactly it is that we're supposed to do. If Yao wanted us to work on this 'project' so badly, then why didn't he tell me to stay on Dromund Kaas?"

His rival leaned back in his chair, and with a smarmy laugh, Ivan set the path in motion for his murder. "Heee, don't you get it, Alik? The entire reason you're on Korriban is to keep your grubby fingers out of the delicacies of the mission. Darth Yao has found that you are too... blunt a tool to use for the more intelligent aspects of his work. Some would say that you are, indeed, too inferior to live, but our Master is a merciful one. He has decided that you still have a use, and so you are to do the simple work of gathering a few key items for the ritual while I study the holocron. I sent a list of the items to your precious droid, so you should be able to see it-"

"Ivan."

"Yes, dear Alik?"

"I'm going to kill you. Painfully."

"How sweet of you to say so. Goodbye, Comrade."

With that, the holoprojector switched off, and Alfred flew into a rage.

* * *

A wide berth appeared outside the market square as the angered mutterings of a Sith passed through the crowd. He was holding up the remains of a mangled datapad before he tossed it into a trash compactor.

"So he thinks he can send me off on some fucking scavenger hunt, huh, like I'm some damned wet-behind-the-ears Acolyte?! Yeah, yeah, and while I'm doing all the work, fucking Ivan gets to schmooze it on up in Dromund Kaas and take all the fucking credit? And for what? A teensy weensy little ritual, one I don't even know about?" Alfred stomped down the street. The very air around him was sizzling, warping his ill will unto reality. "Well Yao's got another thing coming to him! This is the last straw, the last fucking straw! It's always been Ivan this and Ivan that. Hell, for the past eleven years it's been 'Oh look at how smart Ivan is, how strong he is, he truly is more of a Sith than _you_ , aru', but no, no he isn't, because when I'm through with him-"

"Through with what?"

Suddenly, a pale, red-eyed albino approached him. He was wearing the garb of a smuggler, and what looked to be an egotistical smirk.

"Gilbert, is that you?" Alfred gaped, slack-jawed in his shock before his previous fury disappeared completely. "Ahahaha! I never thought I'd see you again!"

The albino bellowed out a laugh, then hooked his arm around Alfred's neck and smushed his hair with his fist. "Keesee! What are you, blind? Of course I'm Gilbert! Here I'd thought you'd remember the little people, but no!"

"Oh puh-lease, you bastard, I'd never forget your creepy ass." Alfred playfully flipped Gilbert away from him, then pointed at him, smiling. "It's impossible for me to repress that hideous thing you call a face-"

Gilbert punched Alfred's arm in response. "Ooh, sick burn. I'd really feel that one if I didn't realize that you're just trying to compensate for my pure awesomeness."

"Ahahaha, that really hurt, you fucker." Alfred winced as he held his arm. "I see you still pack quite the left hook."

"And I see that your muscles are even less awesome than they were in the war!" Gilbert chuckled, then held his hands behind his back. "So! What the hell are you doing here, you fuck mothering Sithlord?"

Alfred then remembered what he had been so very angry about, and grumbled in frustration. "Pheh. Typical bullshit, you know the drill. What the hell are you doing here, you cocksucking Imp? You still in the Imperial Army?"

"Ah, no. The pay sucked ass, so I left the 'troopers for some nice smug- er, I mean _privateering_ digs." Gilbert leaned in close, whispering in Alfred's ear. "Speaking of, you wouldn't happen to know where I can find some of the good stuff on this planet, would you?"

Alfred pretended to think it through, and scratched his chin. "Hmm. It depends. If you're planing on stealing anything for your 'privateering' needs, I'd say you're shit outta luck. It would be suicide to even consider knicking the dirt, and that's not including all of the damned tombs around here. Even you couldn't survive for long before you'd get caught up in a trap. At least, not without someone who's Force-sensitive."

Gilbert jumped back in mock surprise. "The awesome me? Steal? Who do you think I am? I'm but a traveling merchant, humbly trading my wares-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, save me the spiel, asshole. Come on, I'll buy you a drink. We'll talk it over then." Alfred slapped Gilbert on the back, who howled an "Excellent!" before they both wandered into the nearest bar.


	3. I Heard it Through the Grapevine

**Tython 3642 BBY**

_"Master, can I ask you a question? I need help with this one passage, and Master P'loshi is being so confusing..."_

_"Master, why do we have to restrict ourselves in such a way? I thought we were meant to be Jedi, not **slaves**."_

_"Master, did you know that your eyes shine like **emeralds**? Err, I mean, uh, you know, if you ripped em out, they'd sell pretty good, huh?"_

_"Master... Master... Master... Arthur!"_

**_"Arthur... I love you... Why are you running away? I don't want to hurt you, I just want to squish your adorable little heart-"_ **

A massive headache sharply struck Arthur when he awoke. His entire body shook in terror as the remnants of his dream escaped him. For some reason, he felt an overpowering sense of danger hovering over him, caressing him,  _burning his cheek_ , but as he slowly opened his eyes, the shadowy figure shaking his shoulder turned out to be Francis.

"Come on, get up friend. Don't tell me you slept here on the balcony all night long. It is not good for your health, you know."

Arthur felt around him on the floor, looking for the wall before he dragged himself up. There, another sharp pain attacked him, this time in the form of a crick in the neck. He gingerly rubbed his neck as he spoke. "What do you think, frog? That I just happened to find that this would be a great spot for a party?"

Francis crossed his arms and sniffed. "Hmmpf. You tell me, Arthur."

Arthur rolled his eyes at Francis, giving a derisive snort. "Well, I'll tell you this much, it is certainly none of your business."

"Oh really? So I am meant to simply ignore this, is that right? Well, you can count me out, Arthur. I wasn't lying when I said I was worried about you." Francis' angered expression then turned to concern, and he reached out to place a hand on Arthur's back. "Tell me what troubles you, my friend. This problem of yours is most definitely not being solved with your frequent meditations, especially so considering the fact that I found you passed out on the floor."

Arthur stared at his feet, then looked up. He gave Francis a vacant look, giving nothing away. "You really want to know, don't you?" Arthur blinked, and he smiled an empty smile. "If it will get you to leave me alone, I suppose I'll tell you."

He walked, sitting down on the ledge of the balcony. Francis followed suit, paying close attention.

Arthur breathed deeply through his nose, clutching tightly at the hard rock beneath him. "It all started when Alfred began to eat noodles."

* * *

_**Coruscant 3654 BBY** _

_The bustling noise of ships whizzing through the air rang in his ears. They were located at one of the higher levels on the city world, and Alfred was gazing out at the view with a beatific grin.  
_

_Arthur turned his head to his apprentice. What a fine apprentice he was, too. Having passed the Trials at the tender age of 15, he had fought in the war as a Jedi for only four years and already he was making a name for himself. Alfred was known far and wide, from the Outer Rim to the very Core, as a true hero of the Republic, and of the Jedi Order._

_He was so very proud of him. The war was hell, yes, but Alfred had become what he was destined to be, and as long as they fought side by side, Arthur would face the Sith Emperor himself if he had to._

_An unknown emotion welled up in his throat as he smiled at his apprentice. Arthur tried to speak, but he choked on his own words before he could say anything._

_"Master? Is something wrong?" Alfred peeked at Arthur, hearing his tiny slip._

_He turned away from Alfred, and faced the window. "Oh it's nothing, Alfred. Don't worry your little head over it."_

_At that, Alfred's smile formed into an impish smirk. "What do you mean by 'little head' anyways? You calling me stupid, Master?"_

_Arthur, in response to Alfred's ribbing, let out a single laugh. "You don't want me to answer that question."_

_"I see. Well, in either case, I'm glad that you're here. We don't get to see each other that much anymore, ahahaha." Laughing along with Arthur, Alfred subtly moved closer to his Master. Their robes were touching, and he could feel the intoxicating warmth emanating off of him. The heady sensation of the Force thrummed around them, soothing the pair with it's enthralling touch._

_"About that, I've been hearing curious things about you while I've been gone." Arthur was spooked by this feeling. In that moment, the Force almost seemed to be... **tainted**. Yet, that couldn't be right. There were no Sith on Coruscant, that he was sure of, and Alfred couldn't be the source of it. He quickly scooted away, thinking it to be nothing but a figment of his imagination._

_Upset at the sudden disconnect from his Master, Alfred tried to hide his disappointment behind a nonchalant veneer. He looked at Arthur, placing his chin on his hand as he leaned his arm against the railing. "Oh? What kind of rumors did you hear? I'm curious myself."_

_Not one to be perturbed by his apprentice, Arthur mirrored Alfred. "Nothing much. Just that you seem to have been disappearing more often than not. I wonder why."_

_Immediately, Alfred's playful smile soured. "I don't see how that's anyone's business. I'm just eating noodles, is that a sin against the Order too?"_

_"Oh, don't you start up with that again-"_

_"Why not? Why shouldn't I? Everything else is fucking forbidden, and now I can't even eat kriff-damned noodles? Noodles?!"  Alfred clenched jaw shook as he released his pent-up rage. He moved closer to Arthur once more, except this time it was a blatant display of force. "We're fighting a war out there, Arthur. A **war**. And yet the old fogies on the fucking Jedi Council bitch and moan about the lint on our shoes, safe and warm in their precious temple."_

_Ever calm, Arthur tried to soothe his apprentice. "Now, now, there's no reason to cause such a fuss. You know better than to let your emotions get the better of you."_

_Alfred then drew even closer. A lost look flew over him as he breathed into Arthur's face. Tightly, he snatched his Master's shoulder, and leaned into him. Arthur thought he saw a possessive glint in his stormy blue eyes. "I... I don't know about that, Master."_

_That **taint**. It was there again. Arthur could sense it deep in his soul._

_He harshly shoved at Alfred, desperately trying to run from the evil aura. "I think it would be best if you were to meditate on it, then."_

_"If that's what you think is best, Master, then I will do as you ask." Heartbroken, Alfred pulled his hood up and hid in his robe. The dark shadows covered him entirely as he walked away._

_It was the last time Arthur saw him as a Jedi._

* * *

**Tython 3642 BBY**

"It's just... I should have talked to him! I could have stopped it, stopped him from falling, but I sent him away instead." Arthur held his head in his hands as he shook. Francis anxiously looked on at him, and tried to gently touch his shoulder, only for the troubled Jedi to quickly snap away.

"I... I think I'm done talking... for now, at least." Arthur hopped off the ledge.

"It is fine, my friend. Sometimes it is best if you let these things come out slowly, yes?" Francis moved to say more, but was soon interrupted.

The culprit turned out to be a man, followed by his brown-eyed Padawan. The pair walked briskly in their direction, and the moment the man opened his mouth, a frantic air swallowed what was left of the conversation. "Francis, Arthur, you must come with me immediately. You won't believe what is happening."

Arthur was the first to reply, eager to escape the awkward situation. His tone, however, was skeptical as he spoke, "Antonio. Every time I see you, you have some tall tale to tell about  'what I won't believe is happening', only for it to turn into a fluke. Why should I-"

At Arthur's sniping voice, the Padawan stepped forwards to defend Antonio. "Hey, stupid, don't you talk to him like that! I don't care if you're a Jedi Knight, my Master is no liar-"

"Romano! Don't be so disrespectful. You..."

Green eyes glazed over as the surrounding noise became static to Arthur's ears. Memories swam in his head, and before he knew it, they played out in front of him as if they happened yesterday.

_Alfred was in front of him, glowering at the woman before them._

_"Don't you look down on him like that! I don't care if you're on the kriffing council, my Master is no liar!"_

Blurred images swayed and fluttered about. They seemed to be whispering to him before the noise came back in full force. "...so what do you think, Arthur?"

"Hm?" He blinked, confused as to what was going on.

Francis glared at him. "Antonio was wondering if you wanted to go down with him. Apparently it has to be seen to be believed."

"Uh, sure. Whatever." Arthur blurted out his response, hoping that the frog didn't notice his little flashback.

Antonio positively buzzed with anticipation. "What are we waiting for, then? We have to go now. Hurry up."

With that, he tugged at his apprentice's arm, and Arthur rushed after them.

Francis, meanwhile, kept at Arthur's pace, giving him an aside glance that bode nothing good for the future.

* * *

A tall, stately figure was fixed in the middle of the room. Along with thirty other Jedi, the group of four stood in the back row, and Antonio whispered excitedly in their ears.

"Look, can't you see? It's really him-"

The Padawan glared at Antonio, scowling in frustration. "Master! Be quiet! You're embarrassing me-"

"Oh Romano, how cute-" Antonio rapped him on the head in response.

Arthur was not so amused by their antics, and hissed at the pair. "Can you two possibly get any louder? You brought us here, pipe down! I'm trying to listen."

Francis leaned back with a foppish grin, and tilted his head towards the agitated man. "Arthur, why are you in such a rush? I thought you wanted nothing to do with Antonio's 'fluke' as you called it."

"That was before I knew what he was talking about! This man... he is a legend! He is-"

"I am Revan."

**Author's Note:**

> Another quick note, if you are unaware of the timeline at this monent, BBY stands for _Before the Battle of Yavin_. Thus, 3642 BBY means _3642 years Before the Battle of Yavin_. Due to this, the dates move in a retrograde fashion.
> 
> That is all. I hope you enjoyed the story, as well as what is to come.


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